He Can Make His Own Mistakes
by annied01
Summary: "Why are you standing here in this empty classroom, twenty minutes late for our- for our exchange of boomslang skin, professing your love for me to the wall?" / QLFC Season 3, Round 3. Oneshot.


_Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition, Round 3_

 _Team: Holyhead Harpies_

 _Position: Beater 1_

 _Task: Write about your OTP being negatively received by other family members._

 _Prompts Used:_

 _(dialogue) "What have I done this time?"_

 _(quote) "If you search for imperfections, you'll find them" ~ Jose Enincas_

 _Word Count: 2,992_

 _A/N: the italic words in the story are Phineas' thoughts. Just thought I'd make that clear._

Phineas Nigellus Black had been in the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts for more years than he could count, and there was always something interesting going on. He had witnessed so many arguments and overheard so many things, he would even say it was _worth_ being under oath to help the school, should they ever need him. However, mostly he just sat in his portrait frame and pretended to sleep.

He had several portraits – one in the Headmaster's office, one in 12 Grimmauld Place, one in the Ministry, and one at Malfoy Manor. He was, after all, related to the Malfoys, through the Blacks. Most of his time was spent at Hogwarts, however, simply because that was where the most interesting things happened. In fact, Phineas was there so much that often, the occupants of the room forgot he was perfectly capable of seeing and listening to their conversations…

* * *

It was a cold afternoon in December, with just a few days to go until the Christmas holidays. Through the window, Phineas could just about see the trees in the Forbidden Forest, shaking side to side, as if shook by a giant, invisible hand. The headmaster being away on business for the ministry, the office was as silent as a grave, and actually pretty dull.

Growing bored of the silence, he decided to go and nose about the rest of the school; try and find out some gossip. The great thing about Hogwarts, he had found, was that there was almost nowhere you could go without being overheard by at least one portrait.

 _The Great Hall is probably quite full, it's about lunchtime. There are probably plenty of students there_.

His mind made up, he marched sideways out of the painting, and into one in the Entrance Hall. He sidled up to the painting right next to the doorway, and peered into the Great Hall.

 _Look at those fools at the Gryffindor Table. What idiots. They think they're so brave, with their-_

"Excuse me, Phineas?"

He snapped round, looking for the voice. It was the woman in the painting he was currently standing in. "What?" he snapped.

The woman looked down and blushed. "Well… It's just, you just sort of barged in here… I was wondering… Can I help you with something?"

Phineas couldn't help noticing she looked very embarrassed. "What?" he repeated. "No. Of course you can't _help_ me. A stupid little Hufflepuff like you; you couldn't help a fly!"

At this, she turned a shade of red often associated with tomatoes, or apples. "You… You know what house I was in, Mr Phineas, Sir?" she asked, extremely flustered now.

 _Oh great, another babbling idiot. Well, at least she recognises my superiority and title_.

Rather than answering her, he merely straightened his hat and looked back into the Great Hall.

 _Hah… Those Ravenclaws are fighting over that book again. Don't they realise there are seven other copies in the library?_

 _Honestly, do those Slytherin boys have nothing better to do than goggle at Savannah Hawthorne? That girl is nothing but trouble, even if she is in Slytherin… Whatever is happening to the Slytherins these days…_

 _Speaking of which, there's Professor Malfoy!_

"Mister Malfoy! How good to see you again!" he called out, as Draco strode quickly past him. Draco looked around wildly when he heard the greeting, his eyes finally coming to rest on Phineas, who tipped his hat.

 _He looks a bit agitated, and not at_ all _pleased to see me… I can't see how that could be possible, though…_

Draco smiled at Phineas, but his eyes were distracted, glancing down the corridor ahead. "Good to see you, Phineas," he said, and strode down the corridor.

 _He is! He's trying to get away!_

Phineas hurried after Draco, running through portrait after portrait, determined not to lose him. Walking through a portrait seemed easy to the people watching, but in reality it was very disconcerting. Every time Phineas crossed through into the next frame, he felt like he was in water, his sense of direction completely askew. He simply dived forwards and, his ears popping, came out in the next frame. Of course, the whole process was practically instant, but it was very disorientating to have to do it again and again, in quick succession. Especially when he was trying to be as quick as possible, so as to keep up with Master Malfoy.

 _Why Draco didn't marry that Astoria woman his parents found for him, I will never understand. Lucius and Narcissa went to so much trouble finding her, and then he went and declined their suggested proposal! I don't know_ what _he was thinking, either, when he came to be the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Still, it's nice having some company around here… That is, when he's not clearly trying to get away from me._

Draco kept up his fast walk through several more corridors, pausing every now and again to check nobody was following him. When this happened, Phineas ducked behind whoever or whatever was in the painting with him at the time.

 _If he keeps going much longer, I'm going to run out of breath!_

Phineas caught up behind Draco, seriously regretting following him but not willing to give up chase yet, when Draco finally came to a stop outside what Phineas recognised as the Potions classroom.

 _It's that mudblood who teaches Potions now, isn't it? After that fine teacher, Slughorn, died a few years back…_

Phineas thought wistfully of the days back when Horace was the Potions master… But then he had died, and they had replaced him with the entirely unsatisfactory mudblood girl.

 _What was her name… Manger? Stranger?_

"Granger!" Draco knocked on the door, far too politely considering he had just addressed her by surname, Phineas thought.

The door was opened by a woman with long, light brown hair, tied up in a ponytail.

"Malfoy," she smirked, looking him up and down in a flirtatious way Phineas was very uncomfortable with.

She looked up and down the corridor, then grabbed Draco by the tie and pulled him in to her office. The door closed behind them.

Phineas stared.

 _What did I just see?_

 _Why was Professor Malfoy being so careful about being followed?_

 _Why did Granger look at him like that?_

 _Why, why,_ why _did she pull him into her office?_

 _But most importantly, are there any portraits in there that I can sneak into?_

Phineas closed his eyes and focused. In his mind, he saw the castle, with little dots on the walls for all of the portraits. He wasn't sure how it worked, but he could use this imaginary map to see what paintings were available for him to occupy. To his delight, he found one in the corner of the Potions room – it was of some witches, stirring a cauldron.

Fixing his mind on the portrait he wanted, Phineas walked out of the side of the frame, and burst out in the witches' picture. They all turned and glared at him. Phineas pressed a finger to his lips, and they obeyed – but not without giving him dirty looks.

 _It's a good thing all the portraits recognise and respect my authority. Otherwise I would have a lot more trouble snooping around._

He turned from the witches and looked out into the room.

 _What._

 _Is that…_

 _Why is Professor Malfoy… Why is he_ kissing _the mudblood teacher?_

Phineas stumbled back against the edge of the portrait. What was going on? He tore his eyes away from the couple and looked to the witches. They shrugged.

"It has been happening for a good few weeks, Mr Nigellus, Sir," one of them told him dutifully. Phineas' jaw was slack with shock. How could Draco, a proud member of the Malfoy family, be associating himself with this scum? Be in a _relationship_ with her!?

He looked back to the couple, just as they broke apart. Draco tucked a stray piece of Hermione's hair behind her ear, and Phineas could see nothing but love and affection in their gazes.

It made him _sick_.

They stayed there, talking, for a while more, until there was a knock on the Potions door and Hermione leapt up, a look of shock on her face. "I forgot! I have students coming for tutoring!" She ushered Draco into her office. "Wait here, please, they won't be long." She kissed him quickly, before closing the door on him and going to greet the students outside.

Sure there would be nothing left to see here, Phineas wandered back to the Headmaster's office, thoroughly upset and confused.

* * *

Over the next few weeks, Phineas followed the pair around everywhere. They seemed to meet up almost every night. Often, one of them would be carrying paperwork or potions supplies, as an excuse for the visit if anyone asked. However, much to Phineas' surprise, the relationship remained a complete secret to the rest of the Hogwarts population.

After averting his eyes from some very inappropriate meetings for a few more days, Phineas had had enough.

 _How can Professor Malfoy think this is alright? He is a Malfoy. He is_ Draco _Malfoy! He should not be associating with mudbloods like Granger!_

 _I've had enough of this. Enough of sneaking around, keeping an eye on him – and her._

 _Imagine if he gets her pregnant? He would have hell to pay from his parents, and he would deserve it, too._

 _Still… Malfoy is my descendant. My own flesh and blood. He deserves a chance._

So the next day, Phineas cornered Draco, while on his way to Hermione's potions room. "Professor Malfoy!"

Draco stopped. He turned, and saw Phineas there. His eyes widened slightly in surprise, but he quickly wiped the expression from his face and smiled warmly at Phineas. "Nigellus! Good to see you, Sir," Draco held up the boomslang skin he had in a small box. "I'm sorry, but I really need to take this to Professor Granger. Can I talk to you another time, Sir?" Draco forced his face into an apologetic look, while Phineas tried to ignore the way Draco's mouth had twitched slightly into a smile when he had mentioned the potions master.

"Well actually, Professor, that is what I wanted to talk to you about," Phineas began slowly. Draco frowned, the slightest hint of worry creasing his pale forehead. "Step into this room with me, if you don't mind," Phineas continued, gesturing to the right of the portrait he was in, where there was an empty classroom.

Draco nodded dully and walked in, closing the door behind him. He looked round at the portraits in the room, and saw Phineas in one with a ballerina. What that was doing at Hogwarts, he had no idea, but that was _not_ what was important right now.

"What is it, Mr Nigellus, Sir?" he asked, placing the box of boomslang skin on a desk.

Phineas wrung his hands. The ballerina next to him in the frame gave him a supportive smile. "Just tell him," she said. "If he is a true friend, he will forgive you."

"Ha!" Phineas laughed at the ballerina. "You know nothing of my troubles, little girl, and if you did you would know not how to help me." The ballerina, looking very put down, let out a sob and ran to a different painting. Draco, meanwhile, was looking fearfully at Phineas, who shrugged. "Who is she to try to lecture me on something she knows nothing about? She had it coming."

Draco sighed. "Please, continue with what you are to say. I do have a meeting- Well, to drop of these skins. Professor Granger –" again, Phineas saw the corners of his mouth twitch upwards, "-is expecting them around now. I don't want to keep her waiting."

"You can drop the act, Draco," Phineas said tiredly. "I know."

 _Please take this opportunity to break it off._

 _I really don't want to have to do this._

"What do you mean, you _know_? Know what?"

 _You might want to sit down for this._

"I know about your secret relationship with the mud… _muggleborn_ potions master."

Draco's look of surprise was similar to that of a cartoon. His eyes wide, he stumbled back and sat down heavily. "You know? You know," he said dully. "Does anyone else?" he looked up at Phineas, his gaze fearful, not sure if he wanted to know the answer or not.

"Only the various portrait people who were also in view of you. But don't worry, they would never dream of gossiping with anyone except other portraits."

Draco put his head in his hands, his elbows upright on the table in front of him. "Why are you telling me this?" he asked finally.

"Because, as much as I disapprove of this behaviour, I am sure it is only a blip," he smiled kindly. "And I don't want you to be punished for it." Draco frowned and looked up and Phineas.

 _The moment of truth._

"If you break off your relationship with the aforementioned Granger, I will not inform your parents of what is, quite frankly, a betrayal of their trust. That is my ultimatum."

The Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher's jaw literally dropped. "So… What you're saying is if I don't break up with Hermione – oh, don't give me that look, she does have a name, you know – then you will tell my parents about us?" Phineas nodded solemnly.

Draco stood up, his jaw set. "Well, I am sorry Phineas, but I cannot break up with Hermione."

Phineas' eyes flared. "Why not?"

 _Is that someone behind the door? There's a shape!_

"Because I am in love with her!"

"Draco?"

Draco turned. He knew that voice. It was Hermione. Hermione looked around the room. Was anyone in here? No. Phineas had, of course, fled to a different portrait.

"What was that?" she asked. "Why are you stood here in this empty classroom, twenty minutes late for our- for our exchange of boomslang skin, professing your _love_ for me to the wall?"

Casting a furtive glance at the portrait Phineas had been in, Draco walked to Hermione and gathered her hands in his. "Because," he said sadly, "Despite all of our best efforts, someone has found out about us."

Hermione's eyes widened. "What? Who?"

"The portrait of Phineas Nigellus, the ex-headmaster, who is also my relative. He said… Hermione, he said if we didn't break it off, he would tell my parents."

Hermione sat down heavily, her face ashen. "Would that be so terrible, though?" she asked weakly. "Maybe they'll _like_ me, you never know."

Draco sat back down, next to Hermione, and put a hand on hers. "There will not be a single thing right with you, in their eyes," he said sadly. Hermione glared reproachfully at him. "Not because of you!" he said quickly. "It doesn't matter how _perfect_ you are, but if you search for imperfections, you'll find them. And they will be trying to find as many as they can with you. It's just the way it is, honey. I'm sorry."

"So what does this mean for us?" she asked. "Are we going to end it? Are we going to do what _Phineas_ wants?"

Sighing, Draco shook his head. "No, I- I couldn't bear that. We're just going to have to deal with my parents."

Hermione nodded. "I think I can do that."

"Oh, you wouldn't think that if you'd met them, trust me," he laughed softly.

* * *

Draco was sat in his study, marking papers, when the fire in his grate blazed green. He stood up quickly, and turned to a portrait on the wall. "Go and get Professor Granger. Quickly," he told the person, who nodded and hurried off. A moment later, Lucius and Narcissa stepped through the grate. Narcissa let out a sob and ran to her son. "Is it true, Draco? Please say it isn't true!" She hugged Draco tight.

The door opened, and Hermione walked in. "What have I done this time?" she asked playfully. " _Oh_ ," she froze when she saw Draco's parents standing there.

"I'm going to cut to the chase here, Draco," Lucius said sternly. "I hear you have been in a relationship with… with this girl," he gestured at Hermione. "This is not the kind of woman you should be with, Draco. It's bad for your image, for _our_ image… I am asking you, father to son, to break off this _relationship_ ," he sneered at the word, "before this gets out. For the good of the family."

Draco glared at his father. "For the good of the _family?_ Look, father, this is _my_ relationship, _my_ choice, and so _I_ will face the consequences of any repercussions this may have on our family! Not that it will," he added to Hermione quickly.

"Draco, please-" Lucius took a step forward, imploring with his son.

"No."

Narcissa stepped forward and hugged her son tightly. "I will get him to leave," she whispered to him. "I'm sorry about this. I support your relationship with her, I promise. I'll make him come round," she broke away quickly and stepped back to Lucius' side.

Draco stepped closer to Hermione and entwined his fingers with hers. "We are together, whether you like it or not," he told Lucius evenly. "Now, please, I have papers to mark, so if you wouldn't mind…"

Dragging her husband by the hand, Narcissa stepped back to the fireplace and took out a handful of flu powder. "Come _on_ , Lucius," she hissed. "Our son is an adult, he can make his own decisions, and his own mistakes," she told him.

Lucius glared once more at Draco, before Narcissa pulled him into the fire with him, and they both disappeared in a rush of green flames.

Draco pulled Hermione into a hug. "I'm sorry," he whispered into her shoulder. "I love you, and I'm sorry."

Hermione smiled. "I love you too, and you are completely forgiven. Always."


End file.
